


Second Kingdom

by lankyguy



Category: DCU (Comics), Legion of Super Heroes - All Media Types, Legion of Super-Heroes (Comics)
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-11
Updated: 2017-08-01
Packaged: 2018-04-04 00:09:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 20,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4119559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lankyguy/pseuds/lankyguy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Legion of Super-Heroes reforms many years after it disbanded, following the 'five year gap' era.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Signs and Portents

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mysa Nal formerly the White Witch is now a teacher, and is teaching a class on divination. She gets a glimpse of the shape of things to come.

Mysa Nal was teaching a class in divination to ten gifted young people from all around the United Planets, several even from the outer rim. Walking among her students, peering over shoulders, she observed their work. Asherah from Aleph was laying down a six-card Tarot spread as Mysa walked by.

"Honored teacher," Asherah said, happy to have a question to ask. ”I do not grasp the purpose of this exercise. You debunked the Tarot only days ago, yet now you have us to use the Tarot to divine the future?”

"And as we discussed the other day,” Mysa sighed, “The Tarot, is a tool like Rune stones or even entrails. While it has no inherent power, you use it to focus your thoughts and your spells. It does not divine the future, it aids you in doing so."

"So we _can_ use it to see into the future?” Asherah grinned.

"After a fashion," Mysa allowed. “Remember the future is a thing always being created, and even in observing it you may affect it in some way."

“The uncertainty principle? By divining the future we are changing it?" Mihok Kallor of Xanthu piped up from behind Asherah’s broad frame.

"Perhaps, or you may be helping create the future you foretell, it's hard to say. That is why you have to be mindful how you use your knowledge."

"Teacher look," Mihok said indicating his cards desk. He had lain down a simple, three-card spread, past, present and future.

"What of it, Mihok?" Mysa asked.

"The cards changed! Before the spread was King of Pentacles, the Hermit, and then the Devil," Mihok said. "Now the spread is King of Pentacles, Death, and then the Lovers. I didn't touch the cards, they changed on their own."

"Congratulations, It seems you have divined something in motion, something in the process of changing." Mysa smiled with pride. "Whose future were you trying to divine?"

"Probably Superman," Asherah rolled her eyes, “He is a huge fan."

"Were you Mihok? Were you trying to divine the future of someone from the past?" Mysa asked.

The dark-haired, young man nodded, "What does it mean, Miss Nal?"

"I am not sure," she considered. Tentatively smiling, she placed a hand on the young man's shoulder. "Probably no more than a circle closing. We will try to divine more on this tomorrow. "Class dismissed, everyone."

The students gathered their books, bags and Omnicoms and ran excitedly from the room. 

Mysa Nal sat alone for some time deep in thought Finally she thumbed her Omnicom on, and made a quick series of gestures across the pad’s screen.

”Message to Jo Nah from Mysa Nal, “ she began.


	2. Old Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clark Kent gets a visit from a childhood friend.

Amber waves of grain stretched out beneath a clear blue sky as far as the eye could see. A simple, yet sturdy barn rose over good fertile earth. In a corral beside it, several horses whinnied and galloped. Fifty yards away from the barn stood a large two-story house with a porch that stretched around the front and down one side. The land near the house sloped so that the front of the house set four feet off the ground while the back was nearly level. Between the barn and house was a dirt driveway that intersected paved road a hundred yards away.

Clark Kent sat on the front porch of his childhood Kansas home, absentmindedly chewing on a toothpick. Several young farmhands were winding down the day's work, putting away the equipment and animals. When he was a young man he had done the same work, driving the tractor for Pa. After work he would hang out with Pete Ross and Bob Cobb at the old quarry that had become their swimming hole. 

Bob Cobb? Who is Bob Cobb, he thought. 

Clark absently shook the thought away and it quickly left him, odd feelings and recollections had been coming to him a lot of late. Flashes of half memory, like snippets of a movie would pop into his mind and fade away. Unable to dwell on, or examine them, he could not even remember that this had been going on for some time. Even now his mind sought a new train of thought.

The farmhands, a man and two women, were a godsend to Clark. Though he could handle all the physical duties on the farm himself easily, it was not about the physical work, it was about the company. Clark needed people around and the young people formed a makeshift family.

His sons, Jonathan and Chris visited when they could, but the family business kept them busy.

The farmhands had been Diana's idea. She had found the kids through Clark's old friend Pete Ross, then hired them and even set them up in rooms in the house. They were all college friends of Pete Ross' grandson who needed somewhere to live during school. Their work was their room and board. Several were taking courses in animal husbandry.

They knew who Clark was, of course, everyone did these days. He was the only one who seemed to think that odd anymore.

"You need people around Clark," Diana said, giving him a light kiss on the cheek. "Young people especially. You should never be alone for very long, not ever again." She had smiled and took to the sky, returning to Paradise.

The hairs on the back of his neck and arms tingled, someone was coming. 

Clark looked toward the dirt driveway leading up from the road. A young man was walking up the driveway toward the house. Surprised that someone could get this far without his knowing, he almost checked the man out with his heightened senses, but decided instead to let himself be surprised. It was a small pleasure Clark allowed himself.

The stranger was tall, six foot three or four, and lean, yet powerfully built. Dressed in dark jeans, with an unbuttoned white shirt over a white ribbed tank top. He wore a hat, but not a baseball or cowboy hat like most of the young men in the area, a pork pie. Clark smiled in amazement, he had not seen a pork pie in ages.

The only person Clark knew that had ever worn a hat like that was Bob Cobb and he had not seen him since they were teenagers. The thought struck him as ludicrous, Bob Cobb had been a secret identity taken by his childhood friend Lar Gand. He had seen Lar many times since then, both during their time together in the Legion of Super-Heroes when he was known as Mon-El and after. Clark began to tremble, something lay just beyond his grasp. Emotions bubbled up from his subconscious like gas escaping in water and rushing to the surface.

Lar Gand came to the foot of the porch steps took off his hat and ran fingers through hair the color of the sky at midnight. The sun glinted in Clark's eyes and for a second Lar seemed to be suffused in a halo of sunlight. He warmed at the sight. Lar had always been a handsome man, broad shouldered and well formed, but more than that he was striking, with olive skin, distracting cheekbones and pale blue eyes that always seemed on the verge of tears.

“Lar Gand,” Clark said, fear and sadness welled up in his throat. Suddenly he felt as if he were underwater and couldn't breathe, a strong current pushing him up against a dam. The dam creaked and groaned.

"Hello Clark," Lar smiled. "How have you been?"

Clark felt the dam break away. Standing, he started to reach a hand out to the younger man, then pulled back and feigned a relaxed demeanor, leaning against a post. Emotions bubbled up and over him and a fog began to lift from his mind. and a memory dame flooding back...

Clark sat in a chair in his secret lab hidden under the Kent home. Lar Gand placed the wire filigree of a headset over him Both their eyes were tearing up. 

"C'mon Mon, there's got to be another way," Clark said. 

"Clark, you know there's not. In a few minutes it will be over and you can get on with your life. You'll never know what happened. It's going to be okay." 

"No," Clark spat. "It will never be okay again." 

Lar made no reply. He just flipped a switch on the control panel and looked sadly at his friend. 

"Clark it's time. You’re going to forget now." 

Clark groaned rubbing his head as the memory faded.

“Clark,” Mon-El said hesitantly, “Are you okay?”

"Whom do I have the pleasure of addressing?" Clark quickly tried to sound nonchalant as a cold chill crept down his back. "Lar Gand, Mon-El, Valor, or M'Onel? For awhile you went by Jonathan Kent, and now, somehow I remember you as Bob Cobb? Just who are you?" 

“A bit of all I imagine. How much do you remember?" Lar asked, a wry smile started to spread over his face but he beat it down.

Clark caught the reaction that flickered over Lar’s face and his face turned stone silent. The molecules of the air in front of him sizzled with his barely contained anger. Without a word he stormed into the house. The front screen door slammed shut and came off its hinge. Lar stood silent for a second rubbing the back of his neck and then followed quickly, repairing the door as he went.

“Clark, wait,” Lar said.

Clark stopped, turned and jabbed an accusing finger in Lar’s chest, "Just what the hell did you do to me?"

Not waiting for a reply Clark spun back around and strode off into the kitchen. He opened the back door and stepped out into the yard, ready to fly up, up and away. Looking into the blue sky, he froze, and the fight drained out of his shoulders. 

Turning back to the house, Clark walked into the kitchen. Opening the refrigerator, he grabbed a beer for himself and slid another across the kitchen table toward Lar Gand. Clark pulled out a chair, turned it around, back facing the table and straddled it.

“You’re the one who made me forget the Legion, and the years we spent together in the 30th century,” Clark said.

"I'm sor-“

"Don't do that. Don’t say 'I'm sorry,’ it's too late for apologies.”

“I am, though. I’m sorry for what we did, what I did. But it had to be done," Lar twisted the top off the bottle and took a long swig. “Clark you are such an important part of this world, this century and we - the Legion and I - we meddled in it.”

“Imra gave me post-hypnotic telepathic suggestions,” Clark protested.

“And they always wore thin. Several times you came back to the 30th century on your own. Your will was too strong. We had to resort to stronger methods.”

“You made this decision,” Clark glared at him.

“I did. After all, I was the one who knew you the best, knew the most about your life. Because I was involved in so much of it.”

“You did not have to wipe my memories,” Clark said.

“I didn’t, they were just edited - suppressed a bit.”

“I don’t like this.”

“Clark, let me ask you something. Do you remember when you freed me from the Phantom Zone when it was collapsing?” Lar asked

“Of course,” Clark nodded. “When I went to New Krypton, you took my place here.”

“You never warned me what was to come,” Lar arched an eyebrow, ”That I would go back into the Phantom Zone and stay there for a thousand years. Why not?”

“I couldn’t…”

“Why?” Lar asked.

Clark put his head in his hands. “I was worried if you knew how long you’d have to wait to truly get free of the Zone,” he sighed.

“That I wouldn’t let you put me back in?” Lar finished.

“Yes. You were my friend, and we were going to have so many more adventures," Clark smiled wistfully. "I didn’t want to lose that time we had as teenagers. That doesn’t even take into account what might happen to the galaxy if you did not go into the future. You had things to do.”

“I was ready to die rather than go back in the Phantom Zone.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“There were times in the Zone when I hated you. Watching you, watching you not try to free me.”

“Mon…”

“But you did the right thing Clark. You did what you had to for the greater good,” Lar Gand reached over and held Clark’s hand

“God, our lives are too convoluted,” Clark sighed, squeezing his hand in return. “It’s too big.”

“That’s another reason why it had to be done, the memory suppression. To give you as fresh a life as possible, free of the worries of time travel, the future, and of me,” Lar said. “Couldn’t take the risk that you would feel bad and try to free me.”

They stared at each other, drinking their beer.

“God, It’s awful, the choices we’ve had to make. I don’t like it,” Clark said.

“I don’t think that you should,” Lar nodded.

“Why are you here?”

“Oh that,” Lar’s mouth formed a tight grin. “Today is the day you disappear from human history.”


	3. Rimbor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jo Nah gets involved.

_31st century_

Hu Gaf was a typical underpaid but thought he was overworked Rimboran. He had a secret passion for 12th century Braalian operas. It was secret because if his friends knew they would have tormented him to no end. Hu worked in a local business called a TeleTale, an anonymous messaging center. Its cliental were the underclasses, the prostitutes, drug dealers, and gang members, anyone who wanted to relay a message, even off-world, and wanted to remain off the grid. Hu saw a lot of the dregs of Rimbor, but he was unprepared for his next client.

Jo Nah stood about six foot three, not a great height but enough to stand out in almost any Rimboran city. Blessed with a powerful build, a strong cocky gait, and an open unassuming face that immediately made people think him simple. The truth was that he had a strong intellect and over the years had taken pains to hide it. He found it gave him a distinct advantage to let people think him dim. He walked into the TeleTale and up to the desk and smiled broadly. To Hu Gaf Jo Nah looked like a movie star.

"Can I help you?"

"I'm here to pick up my messages, Hu," Jo beamed, reading the man's name tag.

"Of course; pay here," he indicated a panel on the desk.

"Thanks," Jo said and passed his hand over the panel making it chirp. The panel read the chip in his palm and deducted the money from a temporary account he had set up just for this.

A light on Hu’s desktop UI turned from red to green and he nodded. “Just enter any vacant booth to your left," Hu motioned down the hallway. “Thank you.”

Jo Nah smiled and giving Hu a wink, turned down the row of booths looking for one without a red light on above the door. Hu watched Jo Nah walk away and sighed.

The booth was a small rectangular room with a worn plush chair and an beat up Omnicom pad attached to the desk. Posters from recent vid releases hung on the wall. It was shabby. 

There was a faint odor to the room that reminded Jo of a bar, a stale mixture of sweat, urine, alcohol and sex. The rooms were obviously used for many kinds of messages. He punched a code into the keypad and waited while it sent the information out. The blue, eyeless face of a Probe appeared in a holo field in the air above the Omnicom.

"Enter identification code please," the computer generated image said and a holographic keypad appeared below it. 

Jo grimaced as he entered his code. He did not like Probes. Mindless, androids created as a kind of servant class, they were far too easily programmed and used as spies for Jo’s liking. Besides which the entire concept did not sit well the free-spirited, former-Legionnaire.

"Processing," the drone said, "Enter security access." 

Jo entered the appropriate numbers.

"You have two messages,” the Probe said.

"Play first message," Jo said and the probe dissolved into pixels of light then reformed as Mysa Nal.

"Hello old friend, I hope this message finds you well. I was curious if you had seen or heard from your old ‘traveling companion,’” Mysa said.

Jo grinned at that the euphemism even in off-grid transmission the ex-Legionnaires had taken to avoiding using each others names. Someone was always watching.

“I don’t believe it’s an emergency but please let me know if you hear anything,” Mysa finished.

Jo looked thoughtfully as the pixels reformed into a Probe. "Play second message," Jo said.

The image of the Probe dissolved reforming into the face of Jazmin Cullen, the former Quantum Kid, now head of the Science Police.

"I have something for you once you're done with your current business, old man,” Jazmin smiled tightly, and the image dissolved back into the Probe. 

Great. a new assignment already. He sighed. "Erase messages."

“Completed,” the Probe said.

"End transmission," Jo stood up quickly an moved to the door.

Walking out of the TeleTale shop and back out into the marketplace, he scratched his palm and peeled off the chip lightly imbedded under a layer of NuSkin. He scrunched it up and with a tiny burst of his flash vision destroyed it. No more need for that. He thought and looked to the overcast sky. Lar? Please be okay. Don't be gone, not yet, please not yet.

Though much of the United Planets thought of Lar Gand as a deity, Jo knew full well that his friend could not actually hear his thoughts. He stood in the square staring into space for a moment, but there really was no debate. The next assignment for the SPs would have to wait. Within ten minutes he was in a hanger at the spaceport, and an hour later his cruiser was high-tailing it out of the atmosphere of Rimbor and headed for deep space.


	4. TROM

_31st Century_

Moira Erin Arrah was picking her way through the crystal monuments her father Jan Arrah had created on Trom. A sinewy girl of fifteen years, with thick, pixie cut strawberry-blonde hair. she was dressed in a tight T-shirt, that exposed too much of her midriff in her fathers' opinion, fatigue pants and polished calf-high, poly boots with a thick sole. At present she was very frustrated.

The family had lived for the past decade on Xanthu, where the Science Police had posted her father Sean Erin. Then her father Jan had hatched a scheme to form a new Legion of Super-Heroes. _Or whatever it is._ So a month ago Sean had transferred to Trom.

Moira was excited about the idea of a new Legion, but why here? She loved Xanthu, but Trom? Trom was a frontier planet. Settlers had slowly repopulated Trom over the past twenty years and it was becoming a prosperous world, but it was not yet the cosmopolitan hub Xanthu was. Moira had a good life on Xanthu and was not happy at having to abandon it.

"Nass," she cursed, looking at the bottom of her boot. _Yuck, something squishy, and these are new boots, too._

“Dad," she called out irritably and then, "Pa!" Neither man answered her call and she continued her way through the memorial park. "You realize someone will have to be punished!"

"Grife, Moira," Sean Erin appeared from behind a crystal stalagmite some yards off. "Can't your father and I even make out on occasion?"

"That is not what we were doing," Jan Arrah came from behind the same crystal, brushing a dreadlock out of his face.

"I should hope not," Moira interjected. "Making out in a cemetery is gross."

"We were not making out, and it's not a cemetery. It is a memorial,” Jan said.

Moira snorted, and sat down on a rock. "I thought we came back to Trom because you wanted to restart the Legion here."

"Not the Legion, not exactly," Jan corrected, "Come on, we should head back to the house." Jan leapt into the air and took off flying. Without a jump-pack!

"Hey what gives?" Moira shouted after him in surprise. She had never seen him fly before. How in the hell? Sean smiled and handed Moira a gold ring with an 'L' on the front.

"What is this?” She asked.

"A Legion flight ring,” Sean smiled, “Your father buried them all out here after the Legion disbanded."

"Why bury them? Why not keep them somewhere safe?"

"Symbolic gesture. It seemed appropriate at the time. Besides who’s going to look in a cemetery? And considering all the memorial parks your dad put on Trom, where would you begin to look anyway?"

"How does it work?" she stared at the ring in her palm with awe.

"Just decide to fly. It's fairly easy." Sean took to the air after his husband and looked back at their daughter. He circled around then took off towards the city.

Moira concentrated, and opened her eyes as she felt herself move upwards. She squealed in delight and plunged roller coaster-like toward the ground and back up again. She quickly caught up to Sean and buzzed him, laughing all the while.

Sean shook his head, speeding ahead of Moira. Sean and Jan arrived at their home and stood at the entrance watching their daughter fly around.

“I am beginning to think I was wrong. She is too young," Jan said.

"No younger than you were,” Sean pulled his husband into an affectionate embrace.

"That is what scares me,” Jan kissed Sean, then lay his head on his shoulder.

"Get a room!" Moira shouted from far away.

"Come on, Jan. The others will be here soon enough. Let's get the rooms set up," Sean turned walking into their home. 

Jan Arrah stood outside for a moment looking out toward Tarn, the city named for his father. He loved seeing the city alive and growing. Glad that he had left the rebuilding to others, it had given Jan the opportunity to truly enjoy it. Decisions were made that he had not agreed with, but in playing distant spectator,Jan had been free to live a life with Sean and their daughter. 

He briefly worried that his new plans would endanger that and wondered at the pull the Legion had on him.

Jan stood looking into the sunset for long minutes, watching the colors slowly changing in the cloudless sky. A speck of light seemed to detach itself from the other stars and moved toward him, quickly taking the shape of a cruiser. He wondering if this was the first of the new arrivals. Jan smiled and chuckled, suddenly delighted. “The Legion,” he said, “Maybe we will call it that after all.”

"JAN!"

"Coming, my love!"


	5. Smallville

“Today’s the day I disappear from human history? You certainly haven’t lost the patented Legion flare for the dramatic. What the hell does that mean?” Clark Kent laughed.

“I’m not sure,” Lar Gand replied.

“You’re not floating around here in the Phantom Zone watching all this, Mon-El?”

“Stalking you through the Zone was not my style,” Lar said.

“What were - are you doing?” Clark asked.

“Right now? Exploring the the barrier reef - I think. It was a long time ago.”

"The barrier reef?" Clark nodded, "I remember that! When we were kids you talked of wanting to go there. God, you loved exploring, you loved playing tourist, but you always hated looking like one," he said wistfully.

"Almost no one in the 30th century understood my traveling."

"You told me that the first time you came back in time to visit me in Smallville. ‘There goes Mon-El wandering through space again,’ they said. As if you hadn't had enough of that in the Phantom Zone," Clark said. “They never realized you were exploring the worlds you passed, exploring the cultures. You really were alone, even in the Legion.”

Clark saw himself and Lar scaling a cliff. They were somewhere along the fertile banks of the Yangtze River. They had just spent a week walking along the river visiting and living with the people there.

_"Tell me again why we're not flying up to the top, Mon?” Clark clung to the way with his fingers._

_Lar laughed, "For the same reason people climb to the top of Everest. Because it's there and they can.”_

_“I'm actually sweating! You know, I should just let go,” Clark grinned. He let himself float horizontal to the cliff wall, only a single finger touching._

_"Big ole farmboy afraid of a little work?"_

_"I so hate you right now," Clark said and let gravity pull him back down. He began to climb the cliff again in earnest. At the top they sat side by side and watched the sun set. Clark put an arm around Bob's shoulder. The view was breathtaking. It was worth it._

"Not always," Lar Gand said, “There was Tasmia and Jo. They understood. You okay Clark?"

“Oh. Yeah,” Clark mumbled.

“You remembered something?”

“You were visiting from the 30th century,” Clark said. “We were nineteen, I think, and backpacking in China.”

“The memory blocks are failing,” Lar said.

“This was - this was after I left the Legion,“ Clark said, staring at him. “You’d come back in time just to visit me.”

“And for Ma’s pancakes,” Lar smiled.

“Ma’s pancakes.”

“I loved - hanging out with you,“ Lar said. “I -“

“Then why didn’t you come back before now, Mon-El? Why didn’t you come and tell me all this years ago? Why didn’t you tell me what you and the Legion did to my memories?” Clark glared at him. “And don’t tell me you were worried about the timeline.”

“I - I don’t have a good answer,” Lar stammered.

“You know my history, you know what happened, Lois died. Where were you when I needed you?”

“I was there, in the Phantom Zone, Clark,” Lar said. “Why didn’t you seek me out? I watched you, I saw how much pain you were in.”

“The ‘you’ in the Zone was - is a kid,” Clark said, “It seemed too big a burden. Especially…”

“Since you know my teenage self’s future?”

“God, our lives are so convoluted. I really hate time travel,” Clark sighed and massaged his forehead with his fingers. “But whatever else, I’ve missed you Lar Gand.”

"That's another reason I stayed away. To be around you, spend time with you and have you only vaguely remember." Lar said, “I couldn’t have taken it, Kal, and I couldn't risk damage to your mind. We had used a Tap to edit your memories.”

“The Daxamite teaching machines?” 

“Yes. I couldn't just edit, and restore your memories without consequence. If the real memories were ever to come back, it would have to happen naturally. You've been through so much, Clark. I wasn't going to risk hurting you just because I was being selfish and missed you."

“Lois died, Mon-El. It would have been nice if my oldest friend could have - I just wish I had heard from you.”

They sat in pained silence for a long moment.

“I wasn’t sure if I still had the right to consider myself your friend,” Lar said softly.

“Now you’re just being stupid, Mon,” Clark said. He darted his eyes away from Lar's and back to the wood grain of the table. _Keep your focus Clark. Damn, I forgot how deep those eyes are._

“You said, ‘If the real memories were ever to come back,’ that means,” Clark continued.

“There was a chance that they wouldn’t."

“So, is anything real? How did we first meet? What really happened?” Clark slammed a hand on the table in frustration.

“Okay. Where do I start?"

“At the beginning.”

“As you know, I’m from the planet Daxam. It’s the second world in orbit around a star called Valor. I was young, but already I’d chosen my Path, ‘Seeker.’

“Path?”

“A Seeker is like an archeologist/explorer,” Lar said. “I had a fascination wth forbidden lore. In the archives we came across hidden records from the far-off planet of Krypton. Included in the data were broadcasts from your father, sent out just before your ship left its homeworld. Kryptonian language is similar to archaic Daxamite, but all I could initially translate was ‘Son of Jor-El.’

The syntax of the name was similar to the old names of the adventurers I fancied myself like. ‘Sons of Jor-El’ became a secret club my friends and I called ourselves.

Near an old city, in the forbidden areas where outcasts were sent to die, we had found an ancient space craft. Still operational, the power core was similar to what Kryptonians call a Phantom Drive. The Daxamite name is similar. We had no idea what it all meant but we were thrilled.

It was months before we were able to access its data core. Frustrated, and excited, we were filled with incredible passion. My best friend and I sat in our lab throwing out theories, making plans for exploring the galaxy. We uploaded all the information we had on Krypton, and all the information your father had sent out. We hoped to one day make a pilgrimage there, to Krypton, it was the mother world, after-all.

And then the Sorrow Cultists found us. A mutual friend had been found out and under torture, she’d given us up.

You see, everything we were doing was illegal. If we were lucky we might only be banished. We weren’t lucky. My friend gave his life so I could escape.

I took off in the ancient ship and was able to get it to return to the last destination recorded in its telemetry. Anywhere was better than Daxam at that point. It’s last port had been here, on Earth. Ancient Daxamites had been to Earth, Clark. 

The journey took months. I had to go into hibernation sleep to get here. When the ship hit the upper atmosphere something happened and the navigation and life support shorted out. Instead of returning to its last landing point, it followed the path of your ship put me near your farm house. I assume when the navcom shorted out it pulled up the data I had on your trip, Jor-El had broadcast his intended destination for you.”

“I remember when you arrived,” Clark said. “Your ship had crashed and you ejected just before impact. You were floating in the air. The first words you said were,”

“‘Son of Jor-El,’” Mon-El finished. "Not many people get to say Superman took them home to meet his parents," Lar smiled broadly. "Why did you do that anyway? Why didn't you take me to a hospital?"

"It was your ship, it was obviously not from Earth. The markings on it were not dissimilar to what I'd seen on my own ship," Clark continued. "I knew, like my parents had with me, that if I turned you over to the authorities they'd stick you in a lab somewhere. In retrospect taking you into my home wasn't the smartest move. But back then I'd yet to meet a genuine villain and was still a little naïve. Truly evil people are hard to come by."

"I guess we get lucky. A lot,” Lar said.

"Indeed."

“I can still see it all clear as day,” Lar continued, “I'm in your parents' house, in your room. You’re sitting beside me. Then you get up you can’t sit still.”

“I was so excited,” Clark said, “To have someone like me. To not be alone.”

“I can see the room, the house... all the smells, textures, the books in the bookcase... It was intoxicating - even in my amnesiac state.”

"Ma was downstairs fixing dinner,” Clark said.

“Pasghetti,” Mon-El sighed, “I loved it.”

Clark laughed. Lar smiled broadly and shook his head. It was how he had mispronounced spaghetti that first night with the Kents on Earth years ago and the name had stuck.

_“Now what the heck are we going to call you?" Clark said._

_"What name do you like, Clark?" The dark-haired young man smiled._

_Clark blushed. "Uh, gosh, I don't know. Something simple I guess. It’s Monday, and you said ‘Son of Jor-El’ so how about Mon-El, like my Kryptonian name is Kal-El."_

_“It’s our own little club,” the stranger said. “Thank you. I like you, Clark Kent. I like you a lot. It is nice to make your acquaintance. I'm Mon-El.“_

_"Good to know you." Clark smiling broadly, took Mon's offered hand and shook it vigorously. He felt the other mans preternaturally strong grip. Wow he's strong too. Maybe we are related._

_"What planet are we on, Clark?"_

_“Earth. Say, would you like to get cleaned up?” Clark asked._

_“Yes, I think I would,” the visitor said. “I feel - grimy.”_

_“Here take off your clothes and we’ll get you a shower. You’ll need some clothes too." Clark darted out the room and down the hallway. A moment later he walked back in the room with an armful of clothes and his new friend was standing there nude._

_“Oh.” Clark took a look up and down and then quickly back up at Mon-El’s face and blushed. Mon smiled at him._

_”We are about the same size - I mean clothes. These clothes should fit. But you know, I just thought - Okay. Bathroom’s in here." Clark opened the door, went inside and turned on the shower. “But you gotta let it run for awhile before it warms up, okay? Here's shaving cream and a fresh razor."_

_"Shaving cream?"_

_"For your beard," Clark said. Mon nodded and rubbed the stubble on his face. Maybe they don't have razors where he's from, Clark thought._

_"Here, I'll show you." Clark led him into the bathroom and turned him so he was facing the mirror. Clark picked up a razor and mock shaved his own face. He squeezed a dollop of foam out of the can and began to paint his new friend's face with it._

_"It tickles." Mon laughed and Clark grinned._

_Clark washed the foam off of his hand and moved to stand behind the naked man. Clark picked up the razor and put it in Mon-El’s hand. Reaching around and guiding him, Clark began to shave the stubble from Mon's face._

_"Do this," Clark said looking at Mon-El thru the reflection in the mirror, and puffing out a cheek. Mon-El puffed out his cheek. Clark placed his hand on Mon's chin and pulled it to one side and shaved the proffered cheek. Then he turned Mon's face in the opposite direction and shaved that cheek. Clark was acutely aware of everywhere their bodies touched. It was very distracting._

_"Uh, there you go, now you know how to shave. Do know how to shower?" Clark asked indicating the running water behind the curtain._

_"Get in the running water and wash the dirt off my body?" Mon offered, "I may be able to figure it out."_

_"There's soap on the shower caddie," Clark chuckled, "and here's a towel to dry off with."_

_Clark went back into the bedroom and sat on the bed. He took several deep breaths to calm himself._

_Mon-El came out of the bathroom shortly, naked and still damp in places, towel around his shoulders. Clark's breath caught in his throat. No reason why he would put a towel around his waist, Clark thought. Modesty can't be endemic to Earth. Then again that doesn't mean they wouldn't tie towels around their waist after a shower, either._

_Mon cleared his throat and Clark realized he'd been staring. His face flushed hot._

_"The clothes! Yes the clothes, here they are. They should fit, but they'll probably be a little large. You're not quite as bulky as me." Clark's voice trailed off._

_Mon nodded and began to examine the clothes. Clark sat on the bed and watched, mentally comparing his body to his new friend's. Mon-El was trimmer, more defined, and the dark hair on his body looked softer, straighter than his own. Although they were alike in generalities, both tall and dark-haired, otherwise they did not look much alike. He felt at once envious and aroused._

_"Do these go on the inside or the outside?" Mon-El held up the underwear._

_"Inside."_

_"You sure?"_

_“Oh, yeah." Clark stared._

_"Doesn't seem right somehow,” Mon said sliding on the underwear._

_“One leg at a time. Okay, some things are universal,” Clark laughed._

The farmhands picked that moment to walk into the kitchen. In a whirlwind Lar was quickly introduced to Emma Behr, Brendan Guerrin and Alexa Hanks. The young farm hands were boisterous and loud, prompting smiles from both men. Lar watched his old friend's eyes as the young people helped themselves to drinks from the refrigerator and excused themselves to go clean up. Clark's eyes glimmered with pleasure and pride.

"You love them," Lar smiled.

"I do," Clark considered. "They've been here about five years now. They’re family."

"I'm glad, I was worried."

"I think too many people worry about me," Clark said, leaning back against a counter top. Lar came and stood next to him, put an arm around Clark's shoulder and rustled his hair.

"No such thing, Clark Kent. No such thing.”

Clark lowered his head to Lar's shoulder and they stood there for a moment. Lar blew cool air on his neck and Clark almost sobbed. Finally he stood up, ran his fingers through his hair and walked to the refrigerator.

"What would you like for dinner?” Clark asked.

"How about some pasghetti?" Lar asked.

Grinning Clark began to bustle around the kitchen. 

Mon-El stepped out the back door of the house and walked to the corral. He leaned against the whitewashed boards that made up the fence. One of the horses, a beautiful white colt, came up to him. Lar stroked the bridge of the horse's nose between his eyes. The colt shook his head and trotted back to his dam. Lar looked around taking it all in as the sun begin to set. Not for the first time he thought what a beautiful planet Earth was.

The sky was slowly turning deep purple to black and the stars began to glitter like diamonds beneath the big sky. A warm breeze blew and the smell of summer was everywhere. Lar Gand turned as one of Clark’s farmhands, Alexa Hanks, came out to the corral. Propping one foot on the lower beam of the fence, ze looked up into the sky with Lar.

"Nice night for it."

“Yes. Yes, it is," Lar replied.

"You're the guy who used to be Valor, aren't you? I remember seeing you in an old documentary."

"That would be me."

"Not meaning to be rude or anything but why are you here?"

Lar Gand eyed the young woman and smiled. Alexa was about twenty years old, tall, and well built with hazel eyes, and dark hair that fell in tight ringlets.

“I have some old business with Clark, from when we were young."

"Well," Alexa started, "this may come across a little odd but..." ze shuffled hir feet.

"Go ahead." Lar nodded; he thought he knew where this was going.

"Well the others and I were talking. We want to say that... Well we just hope you aren't here to cause Mr. Kent any pain. He's been through enough and well, we wouldn't appreciate it much."

"Alexa, I have to say that's the nicest veiled threat I've gotten in a long time."

Alexa smiled, rubbed the back of hir neck and nodded.

"Well I can't say I won't hurt him, cause I'm pretty sure I already have," Lar started. "But that is not why I came back. There were some things he needed to know and I... I just want him to be happy."

The two stood side by side, staring into the sky for long minutes.

"C'mon," Alexa said. "Clark wanted me to come get you. Dinner's ready." Ze turned and started to walk back toward the house.

"So lead used to knock you out like Kryptonite did Mr. Kent, huh?"

"Yeah it did,” Lar said.

"That's pretty odd, how the hell is that even possible?” Alexa pulled hir cowboy hat off and ran a hand thru hir hair, “Now, Kryptonite I understand, it's radioactive but lead? I mean, as long as you don’t ingest it…”

"It's a really long story," Lar offered as they got to the house.

"Well, come winter we'll have plenty of time," Alexa laughed, opening the screen door for him. "Gotta love the heartland in winter!"


	6. Deep Space

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mysa and Jo touch base, while Jo looks for Lar Gand.

Jo sat in his cabin on his star cruiser, Adventure, scrolling through the channels on the Net. Never anything good on when you want, he grumped and turned the display off. 

The ship was on autopilot, but Jo was certain he were were out of the local system by now. Time to call. He pulled up the Omnicom display and entered his in Legion code.

"Message to Mysa Nal,” Jo said and a heads up display flickered on.

“Connected,” the Com’s voice said.

"Mysa it's Jo,” he fidgeted for several minutes, strummed his fingers on the armrest, hoping she would pick up call quickly but finally gave up in exasperation. “Leave this message,” he instructed the Com, “Mysa, I’m on my way to Lar's place. In a few days I won't be able to receive communications so please return this ASAP. End transmission.”

The Com beeped an affirmative tone, and turning the Net display back on, Jo scrolled again through the offering of holos. "Damn repeats.”

Two hours later the Com beeped again, rousing him from a doze.

"Message from Mysa Nal," the Com stated.

“Accept," he replied.

The image of Mysa Nal formed in the air in front of him.

"It's good to see you again, old friend. Is your ‘traveling companion’ around?” The image of Mysa asked.

“No, but I've been ‘out of touch’ and you know how he is. But this channel’s secure, no need to dance around names. What’s up?"

"My students have been involved in an exercise in divining the future. One of my students chose Superman as his focus. The future that the student laid out was very much the history we know. After his wife passed and yet another meta-human crisis, Superman became a recluse from the world, and then just disappears," she explained.

Exactly what had happened to the Man of Steel remained a mystery. It was well documented that after a conflagration he hung up his cape and tried to teach for a while. He did not have an easy time of it. Everyone still expected him to fulfill the role of Superman. Humanity was unwilling to let him shed the role of deity. Despite attempts at help from friends and students he turned melancholy, retired to his Kansas farm and rarely ventured out. One day he just disappeared.

"What of it, Mysa?"

“In the midst of the divination the cards changed. Now they indicate that after a change or metamorphosis of some sort he will be reunited with a past love. Do you see? The cards changed while we were watching. We have tried it again and again, over the past several days. We get the standard reading, and then it changes."

"I'm not sure what this has to do with us. Anyway, how can you see a change in the past as a future event? Can you read the future of someone in the past?"

"That is just it, I think someone has gone, or is going to go into the past, Jo. The ‘Lovers’ card came up so naturally I thought of…”

"Lar Gand," Jo sighed. "Like I said I'm already on the way to his place, Mysa. I can't use an Omnicom much longer. I promised Lar I'd keep this place under wraps, but I'll let you know when I find out something."

"Do you still have the talisman I gave you?"

"The gemstone? Yes, it's in the ship stores."

"When you find out what is going on I want you to use it. Hold onto it with both hands and say my name three times. Then we will be able to communicate without an Omnicom,” Mysa said.

"Neat trick."

"It comes in handy."

"You'll have to teach me how that works,” Jo Nah said.

"I offered to some years ago, old man," she chided him smiling.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Jo dropped his head then in a quiet voice, "I know he's gone back Mysa. He's left. I felt it, knew something was up.”

"Jo," she said gently, ”We always knew he would go back one day. We talked about it, you, Tasmia, Tinya and I?"

"I know Mysa, just didn't want it to be now. Is that selfish?“

“Maybe, but keep your eye on the ball, Jo Nah. It will be okay. Call on me when you get there. I love you, old man."

"Jo out," he grunted and turned the Com off.

For a brief instant he resented the distance he would have to travel to Lar's world, Thoron. He would not use a Stargate as normal but instead the secret subspace slipstream path Lar had created. Necessary to avoid detection, but it took longer. Lar Gand did not want anyone happening upon Thoron. 

Tucked away in a mostly barren area of space in the Outlands. It was untouched by outside forces. The planet was Lar Gand’s special place. It was where he went to get away from it all, where he went when he wanted to live amongst people. The United Planets was unaware the planet existed and Lar planned to keep it that way.

Jo got up took his shirt off and looked in the mirror, running a hand through his hair and then down his torso. Almost fifty, he had all but stopped aging at thirty, just as if he were a super-powered Daxamite. Not sure how good a thing potential immortality is, he thought. You shouldn't have to outlive the people you love. Well almost all. Damn it, Lar.

He lay down in the bed and thought back to three years ago when he first visited Thoron…

They were on a planet in the far reaches of the United Planets. Charitably it could be called ‘backwater.’ Home to a pre-industrial population of almost a billion. The majority of the population lived on one of the two large equatorial continents. The climate tended to warm and dry for baseline humans, with large oases of tropical jungles. The planet's natives called it Thoron.

"What does the name mean?" Jo asked his friend.

“Roughly, it translates as ‘good mother,’" Lar adjusted the toga-like robes that Jo wore. His fingers lingered over the brown hair on Jo's chest and he smiled. 

“So, ‘Earth?’” Jo asked.

“Basically,” Lar laughed and walking over to his desk, picked up a Tap. He placed the filigree of the teaching machine on Jo’s head. With its three discs it always reminded Jo uncomfortably of the similar filigree that the original Brainiac sometimes wore. He wondered if there was a connection.

"You ready?" Lar asked.

"You bet. Hit me." Jo braced himself.

Lar looked deep into his lover's eyes for a long moment and pulled him close in a hug. 

Jo Nah rubbed Lar’s back, and kissed his neck. "Easy there, babe."

"I'm just glad you're here," Lar said and turned the Tap on. In seconds a working knowledge of Thoron's languages downloaded into Jo's brain.

"WOO!" Jo exhaled. "Always a rush!"

"Let's go, Jo," Lar said, cheerily taking the lead.

As they walked out of the cave, Jo noticed flowers on the ground and was about to say something when Lar grabbed his arm and pulled him along. They made their way to the valley below and Jo turned around to look back at their cave. The entrance was gone, hidden behind a hologram and force field. Jo jumped up on Lar's back and hooted loudly. With a grunt Lar staggered before getting his balance and the two men wrestled and tumbled their way down to the canyon floor.

Three hours later under a hot sun Lar and Jo walked into the countryside around Maelos, the largest city on the continent. Bounded on one side by an extremely large rocky outcrop and on the other by the sea, the city citadel sat atop the outcrop, with stairs and roads carved into the sheer face leading to the top. The fortress housed Maelos' government and was a refuge for the populace during wartime. The west side of the city sat on a large natural harbor. This coupled with a healthy open trade policy caused Maelos to become home to the planet's largest marketplace and bazaar. It was the planet's most influential city-state.

The rocky path they were on became a rudimentary road cut with ruts for carts. Jo noticed that there were cylindrical heaps of stones sporadically along the side of the road, especially at crossroads. 

“They are for Halk Kar,” Lar explained, “Their hero/god of transitions and boundaries.” 

The road meandered along and eventually met up with a great thoroughfare called the Processional Way, paved straight with red limestone. The locals believed this was the road the city's god Mael had walked when he built the city. It led up to the main entrance of the city, the Golden Gate of Hatsup, goddess of the dawn. 

The sights astounded Jo. The entire city was built of pastel colored brick and painted in vibrant colors. His head turned constantly as he marveled at the lush hanging gardens and colossal statues of the great god and his wife. In random alcoves and nooks he noticed the statue of a caped figure. Flowers lay at the base of the figure, and sometimes the cape was not carved but real cloth.

Lar tried to play stoic tour guide and explain historic features of the city, but he quickly gave in to Jo's exuberance. They ran through the city like two children, laughing and laying hands on everything. Later that afternoon after finding an Inn they went out to a café. Reclining on couches they watched the bustle of the early evening, families, revelers and prostitutes all out and about their business.

"This place is fantastic! How long have you known about it?" Jo asked.

"A while, I found it while I was trapped in the Phantom Zone."

"How? Surely not by luck, it's too far out. And the people here, they look so human, just like us. I thought for sure you had image inducers secreted away somewhere so that we could pass, but..."

"They are human, just like us. The Dominators seeded this world over fifty thousand years ago. I learned about it while researching their experiments," Lar explained.

“Over fifty thousand years ago? How do you know…”

"Thoron can be a very volatile. Every couple of millennia geologic upheavals blast the populace back to the Stone Age. A similar thing happened on Earth for the longest. Civilization would get so far, and then a natural disaster would set the clock back."

"I hate it when you talk about things like that," Jo said softly.

"Sorry, didn’t mean to sound blasé. Too much time spent observing things, I guess.”

"No, you don't understand silly." Jo leaned over and pulled Lar’s face close to him. "I hate it, because it makes you sad. I don’t like it when you're sad." Jo kissed him, and then sheepishly looked quickly around. "Was that okay?"

"Yes." Lar shook his head in amusement and returned the kiss. "I told you before, their culture has no prohibition against male/male displays of affection."

"Certainly not in the art." Jo indicated a mosaic on the wall of two nude males involved in complicated embrace. He turned his head at a sharp angle for a better view and laughed. Leaning back on his couch, he picked at the tray of food that sat between them.

A large. noisy group of young people walked past the café, obviously on their way out for the night.

“C'mon, let's join them," Jo jumped up and over the rail. Grinning Lar dropped coins on the table and ran after him. The group easily accepted the pair as they were of good temperament and had money. They proceeded to drink far too much wine and sing too many bad songs. Later they stumbled, still singing, back to the Inn and went to their room. Lar shook off the effects of the alcohol instantly and put Jo into bed.

"Why sir," Jo slurred, "are you going to take advantage of me?"

"No more than any other time." Lar laughed and kissed his companion and climbed into bed beside him. The remainder of the trip was a blur of sightseeing and lovemaking. Jo hated to leave but was determined. Lar was resigned.

"I'm sorry," Jo said. "I promised Jazmin to help out on few missions."

"It's okay. I guess we both have things to do,” Lar sighed, the conversation was a sore spot for them

Jo Nah lay in his quarters cursing himself, the memory stinging. I should never have returned, he thought. We should have just stayed there on Thoron. I came back for what? Another damned S.P. mission? Nass! He curled into a ball and hugged the pillow. A cold tight fist grip his stomach. 

Adventure sailed on toward Thoron.


	7. Smallvile

_21st Century_

Lar Gand sat in the swing on the side porch of Clark’s home. He thought of it as his home, too. Back when they were teenagers, he had lived here on and off all those times he would visit from the future. The summers spent here had been magical.

Kids. They had been kids.

He was listening to the sound of Clark’s farmhands shouting at the football game on the television in the living room and sipping on a hot, cup of coffee. Lar gazed up at the rafters overhead and thought, this is good. If only Jo were here, it would be perfect.

The screen door opened and Clark walked out holding his own cup of coffee. Smiling, he moved over to the railing and sat on it. 

There were only a few times in life when Lar did not know what to say, and many times when he knew better than to say anything. This was one of those times. Dinner conversation had not been strained so much as non-existent between the two of them. The farmhands had carried all the conversation. Lar doubted they could have gotten a word in edgewise.

Still, there had been moments. 

Alex had been going on about school and Lar had been listening, rapt in the conversation. Twenty-first century American culture was so totally different from either Daxam or thirty-first century U.P. culture it made Lar dizzy. He had loved it here. Then he would feel eyes on him and look up. He met Clark eyes, then they both quickly looked away.

Lar would find himself staring at the hair on the back of Clark's arms, or mesmerized by the timbre of his voice and glance up to see that he had been caught. Clark would smile that shit-eating grin of his and Lar would find himself blushing. Blushing! Only Jo and Tasmia had ever been able to make him blush. Not true, he thought, Clark could always make me blush.

"Nice night for it," Lar offered.

"Yes, it is," Clark agreed, then walked over to his friend. Lar looked up curiously, as Clark bent over and planted a kiss on the side of Lar's neck just under his ear. Lar Gand moaned in response.

"Glad to know I can still have that effect,” Clark smiled and turned around and walked down the steps and into the yard. Floating up into the air, he somersaulted backwards and sat on his haunches on the roof’s edge never spilling a drop of his coffee. Lar stood and followed him.

"Remember how we would sneak out of the house after your folks fell asleep, and come up here? We would sit and talk up here for hours, wearing only our underwear."

"As I recall it, I was the only one consistently wearing underwear,” Clark smiled.

"You took forever getting used to that,” Lar chuckled.

“I was a small town boy, Lar,” Clark said.

“I wasn’t very helpful, I know. Daxam was a little repressed - so was the thirsty-first century, for that matter. I may have gone a little wild when I came to visit,” Lar sat down on the roof, letting his long legs dangle over the edge. 

“Remember that bustier costume Rokk had for awhile? A lot of our friends had trouble with that.”

“It was very eye-catching,” Lar admitted

"You were pretty distracting back in the day yourself, Sparky. Sitting on my roof in the altogether.”

“Sparky. You know the last person who called me that was Pa," Lar said. “And you're pretty distracting yourself, Smallville,"

"Don't," Clark said sharply.

“Oh,” Lar flinched.

“‘Smallville' was what Lois called me. Usually - at first - to irritate me,” Clark said.

Lar Gand nodded in answer and looked off into the horizon, hurt and unsure what to say next. It seemed he could not do anything without causing Clark pain. What the hell do I do? I wish I could just kiss you and make it all better.

"Damn it, you just surprised me is all,” Clark said in frustration as if reading his friend’s mind. “It's actually kind of nice to hear it. It reminds me of Lois, and that's a good thing." 

They sat together for long moments in silence. Clark finally fully sat on the roof then reached over and covered Lar's hand with his own and squeezed it affectionately.

“Smallville," Lar looked into Clark's pale blue eyes, and felt light headed.

Clark smiled and pulled Lar's hand up and kissed the back of it. Then he leaned in and gave Lar Gand a deep kiss. “It really is good to hear it again,” Clark said. “I missed this. I missed you.”

“I never thought,” Lar said.

“Tell me,” Clark interrupted.

“Tell you?”

“Tell me what happened to make you give me a mind wipe.”

“Oh,” Lar sighed. “It was the last time you came to the future. Your heart wasn’t in it anymore, hadn’t ben in it for a long time. You’d discovered out how your parents were going to pass, how Pa died then later Ma. You’d return home and forget because of Imra’s telepathic, post-hypnotic suggestion. But your mind, you powers - you are too strong. Over time you’d come back to the future and you’d remember all over again and it made you miserable.”

Clark pinched the flesh between his brows, “God, hearing you say it. I do remember that.” 

Lar rubbed clark’s shoulder. “I’m sorry. We… No, it wasn’t ‘we,’ I did it. I couldn’t stand watching you be miserable. I decided it was long past time that you went back home and got on with your life. There’d been a growing sentiment amongst those of us closest to you, that we were holding you back. The Legion was keeping you from moving on. So the last time you returned to ‘the present’ from ‘the future’ I came with you and did the mind wipe.”

“That can’t have been easy.”

“We had a terrible fight over it. But I…”

“What?” Clark asked.

“I didn’t just wipe your memory. I was selfish,” Lar sighed. This was the hard part.

“And?”

“We spent one last summer together,” Lar braced or his old friend’s disapproval. It didn’t come.

“I love you,” Clark laughed out loud. “I … I remember. That summer was something else.”

“Yes. Yes, it was,” Lar said and his mind trailed off to a day just after they’d returned from the thirty-first century…

He dove into cold, dark water. It felt felt brisk on his nigh-invulnerable skin. Lar could hear Pete Ross and Clark Kent applauding and hollering from a ledge overlooking the quarry. 

Hollering, such an interesting word, he thought.

Long ago the quarry had been closed and filled in with water. Now it was the swimming hole for the young people in town. Lar swam back to his friends. Pete was stretched out determined to catch the last of the day's sun. 

Climbing up onto the ledge, Lar splashed the other two men and laughed. Plopping down next to Clark, he punched him in the shoulder. Clark grabbed Lar’s head in the crook of his arm and gave him noogies as they wrestled. They both collapsed in laughter. Pulling himself together, Lar stood up and went back for another dive.

Pete watched them and felt a little twinge of jealously. "How much longer are you staying in town, Clark?” Pete asked.

"Not very long Pete, but it depends."

"On Bob?” Pete indicated Lar Gand. He knew who Lar was, he was familiar with the Legion of Super-heroes.

“Yeah. Bob,” Clark said drowsily, “Wanna find out what he plans on doing.” 

Pete nodded. "It's been nice having you back, but..."

"But?"

"You need to go, Clark,” Pete said meaningfully. “We all know it. You’ve got to see what else is out there.”

Clark nodded then standing, walked over to the edge and dove into the water.

"You're a good guy, Pete Ross,” Lar said sitting down next to Clark’s childhood friend. He could almost see the train of thought in Pete’s eyes. They had hurt his feelings, somehow.

“Thank you, Mon-El,” Pete said sadly. He nodded at Clark. “That Imra’s work?”

“Yes. I’m hoping her latest attempt to make him forget us is going to work. He keeps coming back to the future,” Lar explained

“He can’t keep doing that,” Pete said.

“Believe me, I know. he’s too important,” Lar sighed. Clark waved at them. He had climbed to the top of the quarry for another dive. Looking at them, he seemed confused. Had he heard them?

“Can I give you some advise? Based on my own brief time with your Legion and watching you two?” Pete asked.

“Of course. Please.”

“He’s never going to forget you,” Pete said, “Trying to make him do that will always fail - eventually.”

“So what do I do?” Lar asked.

“Make it - the Legion, you, everything from the future - just out of focus, so that he doesn’t dwell on it. You know?”

“It’s an idea,” Lar Gand nodded.

Later that evening Clark and Lar sat on the edge of the second floor roof of the Kent home in their underwear, just like they used to as kids. 

“Bob, you’ve developed some propriety,” Clark grinned, “Though I’m not sure that’s a good thing. Having a handsome man running around naked had its advantages.”

Lar blushed in response. He called me Bob, he thought. Good sign.

"You know, I’ve been thinking of going on a sabbatical,” Clark said.

"Ma told me," Lar answered.

"Yeah, well, I need to get to it, travel. I need - I need to find out if I have a place in this world," Clark explained.

"When do we leave?" Lar asked.

"Really? You'll go with me?” Clark brightened.

"If you want. At least for a little while.”

“Then we go back to the future and the Legion?” Clark smiled his movie star smile. 

Lar felt a knot in his stomach, Imra’s work had not taken. It was his own fault, he should never have come back here with Clark. 

Clark leaned over and kissed him full on the lips. Lar returned the kiss hungrily. How could I have not come back? Lar asked himself.

“Will Shady be okay with this?” Clark demurred.

“Tasmia? She’ll be fine with it,” Lar grinned. “We talked about it.”

“Really?”

“Jo, is the one who will be jealous,” Lar smiled.

“Yeah, he’s been in love with you forever,” Clark said.

“You knew?”

“Dude, everyone knows.”

Clark laughed and kissed Lar again, lifting up off the roof, pulling him up into the air. They tumbled along under the full moon..

The next evening Clark Kent and Bob Cobb left Smallville.

"You know, I wonder that my folks didn't suspect something," Clark said his voice pulling Lar out of the memory.

“They didn't suspect, they knew," Lar admitted. "Your father had a long talk with me before we left."

“He did?" Clark asked amazed.

“Oh, yes. That was some conversation! All they ever wanted was what was best for you."

"I know." Clark wiped a tear away. Clark stood up and held out his hand.

"Care to escort an old man to bed?” Clark asked.

Lar took the offered hand, used it to pull himself up and into Clark’s arms.

"Not so old," Lar whispered in his ear and and pushed him off the roof. 

“You ass!” Clark laughed tumbling into the air. He soared up and behind Lar grabbing him under the arms and tossing him up, and away. 

Lar came back around and caught one of Clark's wrists pulling him away from the house. The two men careened through the air fighting for position. They shouted, guffawed and roughhoused under the full moon until one of the farmhands finally came out and shouted at them to keep it down. In a burst of laughter the two men took off for the horizon.


	8. Binder-7

_Mysa_

Mysa Nal sat at her desk grading essays her class had turned in. She had successfully deflected the classes interest in pursuing the divination exercise from last week. Diverting her own thoughts was not as easy. 

Lar Gand, the man much of the galaxy knew as Valor, but the Legion called Mon-El, was a living anomaly, a wild card with unresolved ties to the twenty-first century. Possible fluctuations in the timeline caused by a trip to the twenty-first century was a concern, but there were few beings she trusted as much as Valor. And this was hardly his first trip to that era, he was from there! Still Mysa had doubts. Lar had such strong emotional ties to Superman and predicting the course a heart would take was dicey at best.

Like many Legionnaires, Mysa carried a belief that all the wrongs, all the turmoil and difficulties they had borne witness to must somehow suit some universal just cause. It was an acquired trait but an essential one. Without it a person might turn bitter and angry.

A handsome woman who appeared to be in her 40s, Mysa had long wavy brown hair. Her skin had long ago turned nearly chalk white due to exposure to certain magics. Mysa's eyes were lively and light brown with flakes of gold that easily caught the light. 

The Omnicom on her desk beeped a reminder tone and she looked up at it. Mysa had only read the beginning of the notation before she cursed under her breath. Today was the anniversary of Tinya's death. She made a silent prayer that Jo was already out of communication range. The last thing he needed was the barrage of sympathies that were surely headed his way. Over two decades had passed and friends still called to condole with him. Mysa felt that Jo would have had an easier time getting past Tinya's death if people would only let him.

"Everything always happens at once," she sighed and remembered the old Terran adage about things occurring in threes. Turning to her Omnicom tablet, she checked her messages. Seeing saw one marked Legion from Jan Arrah, she smiled. But of course it is. She wondered briefly what else was going to happen.

The message was in text format only, which did not surprise her. Jan Arrah was a very earthy person, taking great pleasure in anything he could lay hands on. He had doubtless typed the message manually. Jan was forming a new group, a new Legion, and wondered if she had a student who might be interested.

Mysa thought immediately of her young nephew, Mihok. Not only did he show promise as a sorcerer and seer, but he had inherited his fathers mass-inducing abilities and both his parents had been in the Legion. He was a handsome young boy who had his father’s dark looks and mother’s intellect. 

Pulling a piece of parchment from her desk, she used an antique quill to compose her reply. She knew Jan would appreciate this. At the end of the note she dripped hot wax onto the paper then pressed her family signet ring into it. Rolling the parchment up, she tied it with a ribbon.

Mysa pictured Jan in her mind. Broad shouldered, and square jawed, his blonde, wavy hair twisted in dreadlocks the last time she had seen him. He was also hairy, which had surprised her when they were younger. Most blonde men she had known up to that point were fairly hairless. She pictured him beside his partner Sean Erin and thought of the number of times Jan had escaped seeming death. Remembering his shy smile, and sometimes distracted spirituality she opened her eyes and blew a kiss on the rolled up parchment. It disappeared from her hands with a pop.

One more thing, she thought and went and opened the door into the school. 

Her residence and the school existed on Binder-7, but her office was someplace else, a sidewise pocket realm she had created to hide from prying eyes. Mysa walked through the school and into the dormitory. She stopped at Mihok's door and knocked.

“Yes?” Came a muffled voice.

"It is Mysa, Mihok may I come in?"

"Yes ma'am. NO! Uhm, hold on,” he replied.

There was hurried bustling in the room. Mysa stifled a giggle. Teenage boys.

"Come in,” Mihok said.

Mysa walked in and looked around. She rarely entered any of their rooms. Everyone needs their own sanctuary after all. There were images of Superman and Valor on every wall and a small holo of his parents Thom and Nura on his nightstand. She sat in the chair at his desk, while Mihok fidgeted nervously on his bed.

Mihok Kallor looked every bit the boring, good-looking guy his father was. Mysa could see the intellect in his eyes that he inherited from his mother. The mind and heart of a seer, trapped in the body of a dumb jock. Mysa immediately chided herself for her prejudices. It was the boy's heart that mattered, not his handsome face. Mihok had a good soul, and an open self-effacing manner. And as attractive a young man as Mihok might be, Mysa knew he might not really come into his own for years.

Thinking back for a moment back to the Legion she first knew. A collection of pretty young deities it seemed at the time, and the Legion had made celebrities of them all, for better or worse.

"Lady Mysa?" Mihok said snapping her back.

"Nephew, please it is just Mysa when we are not in class."

"Yes, ma'am," he said and waited.

"Mihok, I have an assignment for you that will interrupt your studies for awhile,” Mysa said.

"Yes, ma'am?" 

She could see him trying not to smile. Mihok clearly took great pleasure in his studies, but everyone loves to play hooky now and again.

"Now, this will be difficult for you, it is a lot of hard work,” Mysa said. She could actually see his heart sink a bit at that. "Jan Arrah, is reforming the Legion of Super-Heroes and would like me to send a representative. I have chosen you."

The look on Mihok’s face was priceless and she fought to repress a smile. He sat in stunned silence for a full moment, then let out a loud yell and began to jump up and down wildly. Grabbing Mysa by the shoulders he pulled her to her feet and hugged her excitedly.

“Mysa, I am so sorry,” he remembered himself.

“It is alright Mihok. I understand,” Mysa laughed. "Come down to my office in an hour and we will put a call into Jan and make all the arrangements. You call your parents."

“Yes! Oh, yes. Hell yeah!" Mihok began to shout excitedly. 

As Mysa exited the room shaking her head in amusement, he started jumping up and down on the bed. Halfway down the hall she heard him beginning to sing. Mysa recognized the song as the theme from the Legion movie that had come out some years ago. She shook her head smiling even more broadly. Later she found herself unconsciously humming the tune herself.

_Mihok_

Mihok Kallor could not believe his luck. This was a dream come true. Better than that even. He never thought there would even be another Legion. It had been almost twenty years since its last incarnation. 

That Legion had borne witness to a terrible episode. During the occupation of Earth by the Dominators, a younger version of the Legion, time paradox duplicates created by the Time Trapper and cultivated by the Dominators was discovered. After the Liberation the two teams went their separate ways. The older team was even briefly hunted as outlaws. 

Then disaster struck with the return of the Dominators. The combined Legions had nearly pushed them back, when the Dominators unleashed their fail-safe, a psionic self-destruct which began wiping out the younger Legion. The older versions of Brainiac 5 and Saturn Girl acted quickly and had been able to save a few of the young Legionnaires, but not nearly enough. It was a tremendous blow to morale, and they disbanded.

Now there was going to be a new Legion and Mihok Kallor was going to be a part of it! He wondered quickly what he would call himself. He had imagined many Legion style code names for himself before but that was different. This time it was for real. 

Going to the door, he peered out into the hall. Satisfied that his aunt was gone he went to the table by his bedside. He opened the drawer and took out his incense and several icons. Mihok knelt on the floor on and lit the incense. He placed the first icon on the wall. It was a stylized version of the Daxamite glyph associated with Valor. The next icon was an effigy of Valor, arms stretched to the winds. Mihok kissed the icon and touched it to his forehead, then rocking back and forth on his knees recited the litany.

“Fabled Valor, the ever-present one friend of man, friend of the traveler, Valor the kind-hearted one, I thank you for your blessings.

Valor, keeper of infinite consciousness, keeper of infinite conscience, Valor who’s eyes have seen the rise and fall of great men, I praise and honor you.

Valor wise and wily, god of of change and the unexpected, I thank you for your blessings.

Valor seeder of worlds, who finds a way, when all is lost, I praise and honor you.

Valor who stands between the bright world and the dark, watch over me as you have all others, I thank you for your blessings.”

Mihok knew that Mysa would not understand. True she had personally known Valor, but to many it was obvious that closeness to the deity only blinded you to HIS grace.

He repeated the litany.

After a few minutes he got up and made the calls to his parents.


	9. Deep Space

_Jo Nah_

Bored. Bored. Bored. Jo Nah was bored. It was still a day before he could drop safely into the secret subspace slipstream Lar Gand had created to take him to Thoron, Lar’s latest adopted planet. There was a less circuitous routes but none that would allow him to get there undetectable. He checked the flight plan on the Navcom, again, and then went back to his cabin.

He was about to turn the movie back on but decided instead to check his messages. During the programmed flight the Com would only sporadically pull messages from the Net. Jo hit the button for the message center and the display came on. There were fourteen messages and after perusing the subject lines, he quickly deleted them all.

They meant well, but after twenty-five years he neither needed nor wanted condolence calls on the anniversary of Tinya's death. Not a day went by that he did not think of her, but it was a part of him now. He still missed her, talked to her, but he had spent his time in mourning and that time had passed.

Jo had kept in contact with Tinya's parents up until their deaths. At first they had blamed him for not being there to save her, but eventually that faded and their shared grief brought them closer. Eventually they came to think of him as a son.

Tinya had been on her way home to Bgztl when her ship was destroyed. It happened swiftly, she had no clue and suffered no pain. Years later Jo and Lar discovered that it was Glorith who had destroyed Tinya's ship, trying to revenge herself on Jo. 

Ultra Boy launched himself on a crusade. With Mon-El, he chased, and battled, Glorith over half the United Planets before cornering her on a planetoid in Khund territory. He still shuddered remembering their final fight…

Jo watched as Glorith blasted Mon-El with a flash of eldritch energy. Lar screamed as the purple flames roasted him. Glorith blasted him again.

"Valor, my love. You should know better than to challenge me. All these centuries and you still haven't learned a thing,” Glorith said.

The blast threw Lar into a mountain, and the entire planetoid shook with the impact. Jo watched Lar get buried underneath an avalanche, and faster than the eye could follow he flew at Glorith. Landing a hard uppercut, he knocked her to the ground.

"Nice one, Mr. Nah. You must enjoy hitting women,” She wiped blood from the corner of her mouth.

Jo pounced on her, yelling in frustration. Grabbing her neck, he began choking the life out of her. Glorith screamed and her form flickered, briefly she became the Time Trapper, then Glorith again, and then an adult Lori Morning. She cried but Jo kept the pressure up. Her Glorith form reappeared and then she became a ten year old Lori Morning. In shock Jo faltered and let his hands go slack.

Little Lori Morning grabbed Jo's neck and began pouring power into him. Resuming her Glorith form, she began using her power to burn Jo inside and out. He screamed as he felt himself being roasted. Holding him aloft by his neck, she turned back into the Time Trapper and shook him savagely then threw his body away.

Half dead Jo saw a bleeding Mon-El pull himself from underneath the avalanche. 

"All my fault, all my fault," Mon-El mumbled shaking his head. Seeing Jo’s battered form, he groaned.

Jo tried to move, but his head just lolled back and forth.

”NO!" Mon-El took to the sky and barreled into the Trapper at full speed knocking them off their feet. Grabbing the Trapper in a headlock, he began to punch.

The Time Trapper screamed and flailed, quickly turned into Glorith, into Lori, into young Lori Morning. Mon-El paid no heed to the transformations, he just kept pounding. The fight with Ultra Boy had severely depleted their energies and they began to thrash wildly.

The Time Trapper’s form shuddered and he became Superboy Prime. “Lar.”

"Not this time!" Mon-El bellowed. "Too many times we've given in to mercy with you and all we've ever gotten is pain and death."

Superboy Prime became the robed, tattered form of the Time Trapper again. They screamed and pleaded but Mon-El already knew this drill. They had been here before.

"Too late. The things you've done - Your future ends here." Mon-El grabbed the Trapper by the neck and choked the life out of them.

"I'm sorry Lori, sorry I couldn't save you and I'm sorry you didn't want to be saved," he said crying as his hands held firmly to the Time Trapper’s neck. “I'm sorry Kal-El. I’ve given in to brutality. I've failed you.” 

The Time Trapper's body shuddered and then slumped as the life went out of it, but still Mon-El kept choking the body and sobbing. 

The rest Ultra Boy would later swear he had dreamt.

After long minutes a small, pale hand fell on Mon-El’s shoulder and he let the body drop. The planetoid was now unnaturally calm.

"It's over," a young woman said, "You did what you had to do." 

She looked to be between sixteen and twenty six, with frightfully pale skin and pitch black hair, and ankh around her neck. Walking over to the body, she pulled loose the Time Trapper’s cloak and retrieved an hourglass from its now empty folds.

"I am surprised all reality didn't just end," Mon-El said looking around the landscape.

"The past is the past. Ending Glorith does not affect all that went before.”

“But It happened before when I defeated the Trapper; All their talk over the years of what they'd done. How they had been so indispensable…”

“Glorith ended that cycle when she took on the Time Trapper’s power in the pocket universe long ago,” the young woman said. “She tied him to a linear timeline when he hadn’t been before and sealed her own fate.”

“I don’t,” Lar Gand started then nodded and sighed. “Okay.”

“Besides there will be another along shortly.”

“Another?" Mon-El asked.

"Yes, there always seems to be a mortal version of Destiny running around. You of all people know that, Lar Gand."

"I wasn't sure, the Time Trapper wasn't like the Destiny I remembered,” Mon-El said.

“They were an 'aspect' of my brother, a reflection if you will. Albeit very twisted one, they do change from time to time," the young lady said. Lar Gand nodded numbly.

"You have never changed, my dear,” He smiled tiredly.

"Neither have you, handsome." She tried to kiss him and stood on her tiptoes. He obliged and bent down to accept the kiss.

"I'll make sure that the new one that doesn't take quite so personal in interest you." She smiled and Lar found himself almost chuckling in response.

"See to him would you?" She indicated Jo Nah. "It's not his turn yet."

“Jo!” Mon-El flew like a rocket to Jo's body. 

“Whozat?” Jo said, trying to lift his head

Mon-El carefully lifted Jo’s burnt, broken form in his arms. When he woke up on Med Station Two a month later Lar Gand was still by his side.

Once he was well enough to travel Lar took him to a resort in the Australian Outback on Earth to finish recuperating.

They stayed on Earth for a year. Jo grew restless quickly and soon found himself working for the local U.P. Science Police. He was ripe for the picking and Devlin O’Ryan plucked him as an operative, and then passed him on to Jazmin Cullen.

"Grife!" Jo said coming out of deep thought. His holo was half over and he had zoned out during most of it. Turning the Com off and got into bed. No, he thought, I am spending too much time in bed. Getting up he left his cabin and headed for the gym. He spent the next two hours sweating, working off frustration and trying not to think of Tinya, Lar, or the Legion.


	10. Trom

_Legion Headquaters_

Moira sat on a couch, her arms folded petulantly across her chest.

On a chair opposite her sat Dacey Ranzz. Five years older than Moira and only just arrived from Winath, Dacey had her mother's telepathic abilities and good looks.

Clearly trying to concentrate on the book she was reading on her Com, Dacey was also ignoring Moira’s curious thoughts. It was a situation made more difficult by the ribald passion being broadcast by the two men that were supposed to be her superiors. It was very distracting.

"So," Moira started, "You're the daughter of Lightning Lad and Saturn Girl."

"I thought we covered that."

"And I thought telepaths were supposed to wear a Saturn symbol somewhere." Moira eyed her. "I don't see one."

"I'm not from Titan," Dacey replied icily, "Besides, I'm protesting."

Moira snorted in amusement. Maybe she would like this girl after all.

"Valor's sake, what’s taking them so long?" Moira grunted.

"They are busy." Dacey raised an eyebrow meaningfully.

"EEEEYEW!? You - You can hear them?"

"It’s hard to tune them out, they're pretty exuberant, not to mention athletic." Dacey cocked her head sideways as if actually watching something.

"Okay, double ‘eeeyew.’ Those two! Valor, it's like living with teenagers," Moira said. She caught herself and looked at Dacey, who returned her wide eyed gazed. They laughed out loud together.

The front door let out a loud tone making them jump.

"I'll get it!" She shouted toward her parents end of the building. "Zina, open intercom front door," Moira said to the house OmniCom. It beeped in response. “Who is it?”

"Jim Miklaszewski. I have a appointment with Jan Arrah." The newcomer’s disembodied voice came over the Com.

Moira jumped up and walked briskly down the hall toward the door. Dacey followed quickly on her heels.

"Check the vid, let's see what he looks like," Dacey whispered.

"Can't you tell with your psychic powers?" Moira asked.

"Psionic, not psychic. And no, I can only tell you what he thinks he looks like," Dacey said.

"Oh." Moira nodded and waved up the video.

The young man outside was taller than average and broad shouldered. Though well-proportioned he still fell on the gangly side. He had a heart shaped open face that could easily be called brooding, topped with thick pitch black hair and his eyes were a piercing blue.

"Meow," Dacey said and Moira nodded. The newcomer was a combination of both hunky and motherable.

Jim looked directly at the camera and cocked his head to the side. "You two young ladies done checking me out now?"

The two girls yelped and Moira waved the feed off. They froze for a second as if not sure what to do. The door bell rang again, Moira could swear it did so insistently. The girls looked at each other and giggled. Moira pressed the admit button and the door slid open.

In a wave of sunshine and Egyptian musk Jim Miklaszewski stepped inside with a smile and extended a hand.

"Hello ladies,” Jim said.

"Moira Arrah."

"Dacey Ranzz."

"Moira, Dacey,” He shook each hand as Jan Arrah and Sean Erin walked up behind the girls. 

The two men introduced themselves and showed Jim and Dacey to each of their rooms.

****

"Nice place," Jim said looking around his room.

"It was originally supposed to be a hotel but it went under and we got it for a song," Sean explained.

"The older girl, her last name was Ranzz, does that mean?"

"Yes, she's a legacy too." Jan opened the curtains in Jim's room. The three men stood at the window and looked out. The new settlement extended out before them and past that was the river. The same river curved back around the opposite side of the building.

"Nice view." Jim let out a whistle. "Is she a telepath then?"

"Yes. Yes, she is. You don't have a problem with that do you?" Sean asked.

"Me? No, I'll just have to remember to watch my thoughts around her. May not be easy."

"You'll learn a few tricks." Jan smiled. "Her mother taught us how to construct mental shields so you can keep casual thoughts private. We'll teach you, or get her to teach you all."

"Your natural Daxamite abilities will help in that regard," Sean added. “As will the telepathic plugs - once we issue them.”

"How did your parents take your leaving?" Jan asked.

"Not well." Jim sighed and sat heavily on the bed. "You know how Xenophobic my people are. Even though M’Onel was a UP hero our family was still shunned in some circles. And after Andromeda died all young people were pretty much forbidden to leave the planet."

"We had heard about that," Jan said.

"I hope this works out because I cannot really go back. I don't think the family will have me.” Jim put his head in his hands.

Jan and Sean looked at each other, this was not what they had intended. They had heard rumors such behavior among Daxamite clans, but neither Valor nor Andromeda had ever spoken about it.

Sitting down Sean reached out and put an arm around the boy's shoulder. Jim sobbed. Sean made a mental note that despite the boy's size he was only teenager. 

"Don't worry Jim, you'll always have a home with us," Jan said.

"Yeah, you do." Sean added, "Welcome home, chief."

****

The next morning Sean found Jim walking in the wooded area down by the river. He watched the young man silently for a few minutes imagining that he could see the young Daxamite drinking in the sun. He cleared his throat loudly and walked up to meet him. Jim Miklaszewski saw him and smiled a mega-watt smile.

"Good morning," Sean said. "How are you feeling today?"

"Good, sir," Jim said. “I’m much better, thank you.”

"Call me Sean. Did you sleep okay?"

"I was a little restless."

"New surroundings will do that, I’m sure it will pass quickly enough. Look, after breakfast we’d like to get a full physical on you and run some tests. Especially since you aren’t 'fully charged' yet."

"Of course. Are we going into town then?" Jim asked

"No, we have our own doctor. He’s just arrived from Earth," Sean said.

"Earth?" Jim looked skyward. "Do you think we'll get a chance to go soon?"

"I'm not sure you'd be able to avoid it, chief." Sean beamed. God, were we ever that young?

****

”Are you out of you're freaking mind?" Lyle Norg, the former Invisble Kid, demanded. "I can't believe you asked a Daxamite to leave his world. Do you have any idea what this means?”

"Lyle, please.” Jan held up his hands.

“Young people don't just up and leave that planet,” Lyle was angrily unpacking his suitcase. “This is Daxam, Jan, they hate everybody." He gave up any pretense at neatness and just began throwing clothes across the room in the direction of the bureau, all the while swearing under his breath.

"Lyle, please relax. How were we supposed to know what the family climate was like now? You know how insular they are even at the best of times," Jan pleaded.

"You could have asked me."

"Now how was I supposed to know I needed to ask you anything?" Jan asked.

"Okay, okay enough,” Lyle said. “So, what is his name? His real name not that ‘Jim Whatchamacallit’ nonsense you told me before."

"Lar Gand." Jan winced.

"That's not even funny." Lyle stared at him.

"That is his real name," Jan said.

"Daxamites do not reuse names within a family as long as the predecessor is alive."

"Apparently they do not consider our Lar… apparently he is dead to them," Jan plopped down in a chair.

"Well, that makes it so much better," Lyle said snidely. "And I knew that. They ostracized Lar when he left the planet in the twentieth century. But you... I can't believe you persuaded a young Daxamite, named Lar Gand no less, to turn his back on his family and tradition. And to go out adventuring with the very group that made his already legendary predecessor a legend for the second time. Are you trying to create emotional problems for this boy?"

"You know, when you put it like that," Jan started.

"At least you gave him a... What?" Lyle sat down on the bed and lay backwards. "A secret identity, that's it. Let's keep it that way, if the outside world learns we've got a Daxamite named Lar Gand we could be in serious trouble."

"Exactly our thought. The only reason we even thought about a Daxamite," Jan moved over to the bed next to his old friend.

"I know. I know. It wouldn't be the Legion without one." Lyle Norg sat up and looked at Jan. He saw the concern in Jan's face and sighed. "What is it with our group and dark haired young gods?" 

Lyle shoved his shoulder into Jan's and waited. Getting no response he shoved into Jan's again, this time Jan returned the shove. The two smiled at each other.

"Don't think you're off the hook, mister. I'm here to keep you in line," Lyle scolded.

"We would not have it any other way, Invisible Kid."

"God, don't ever call me that again." Lyle grimaced. “That was Jacques. I gave that all up. Danielle is coming I heard?”

“She should be arriving tonight,” Jan said.

Lyle ran a hand over the stubble on Jan’s head. You are still so damn handsome, he thought. "A burr? What happened to the dreadlocks?" Lyle asked.

"It was time for a change. I thought this was more appropriate for an elder statesman." 

The two men sat in silence for a long time.

"We didn't choose him because his name was Lar Gand. He came to us, told us his name was Kal.”

“Kal?” Lyle raised an eyebrow.

“I know. We thought, a Gand! How hype. It must be Kismet. When we found out his real name it was too late. We were already sold on the kid. It really did seem almost destined. He did not mislead us with any ill intent he always went by Kal on Daxam. The name ‘Lar Gand’ has a lot of baggage."

“And how.” Lyle agreed

Jan paused for a long time. "Lyle, when we talked to him he sounded so lost, so much like Lar when we first met him."

The two men sat looking at the wall.

"I miss him too, Jan," Lyle said in a quiet voice.

"He was the last active Legionnaire after we disbanded" Jan said sadly. "And he was always such a loner to begin with."

"That's saying something coming from you," Lyle chuckled.

"Agreed. From the moment I first talked to Jim, I heard that same sadness in his voice that Lar would get sometimes. The longing. It broke my heart. We had to get him off that rock. They were killing him there, crushing his spirit. I feel like we let Lar down and I will not let that happen to Jim. I think he has that same explorer/adventurer streak in him. You know the one," Jan said, lying backward on the bed.

"Yes, I do, Jan and it's gotten some of us killed." Lyle lay back beside him.

"Brainiac accused me of trying to relive my lost childhood. He said I was on a fool's quest."

"You never cared about Querl’s opinion before, why start now? As to the idea that you are trying to relive your childhood?” Lyle propped himself up on an elbow. “Maybe you are, but doesn't everybody on some level? The Legion is still a good idea, Jan. It always was. Despite whatever reservations I may have, I am here to be a part of it. Now about our young Mister -"

"Miklaszewski, Jim Miklaszewski," Jan said.

"That is a mouthful. Well, If he is anything like the Gands that we know, I think we may be able to pull him through," Lyle said.

"It is frightening. Jim now is how I imagine Lar must have been before the thousand years in the Phantom Zone. Moira, Dacey and Jim are kids. Grife, were we that young?"

"Younger, I think."

"Thirty five years younger and I could have a serious crush on that boy." Jan smiled conspiratorially. Lyle had been the only buddy besides Lar and Reep he had in the Legion.

“I did have a crush on Lar as matter of fact." Lyle admitted.

"I think everybody had a crush on Lar back then," Jan said.


	11. Earth

_Twenty-First Century_

Lar Gand woke up with a start. Looking feverishly around, he reminded himself where he was. It was five o'clock in the morning in the middle of the twenty-first century and he was in bed in a house in a small village in France next to the man he loved. Clark Kent and Lar had spent the last month making their way across the globe, stopping to help where and when they could.

There were times it wasn’t so clear, times he wasn’t aware of where or when he was when he came to. There were times he thought he was still in the Phantom Zone and everything was a fever dream; the Legion, Clark here, now, everything.

He lay back down, nuzzling his chin into the nook formed by Clark’s head and shoulders. Taking a deep breath, inhaling of the odor of his partner’s hair. He loved that smell. 

Over the last few weeks, Mon-El’s return to this era had spurred Clark to reclaim repressed memories. Clark was only just beginning to see how much time had been taken from him. He had always remembered the Legion and Mon, but they had been dim, near-forgotten recollections.

Lar felt tremendously guilty, it was his fault those memories had been inhibited. But he still felt that he had made the best decision he could have at the time.

He pondered over the last memory Clark had shared, they started out that summer from Smallville so long ago. The ‘little while’ Lar had promised to spend with Clark as Bob Cobb, when he left the Legion that last time had become a summer, then had become a season and then a year. It finally came to a head.

On the road in California they met a young man named Amadeo Juarez and quickly became fast friends. They spent a week surfboarding. Amadeo offered them the hospitality of his family when they reached Mexico City and they gratefully accepted.

The openness and hospitality of the Juarez family struck them both when they arrived. Amadeo's mother immediately set to in the kitchen and cooked them a huge meal. The Juarez household treated them like old friends despite the fact that none of the family ever met either them before.

For the rest of their lives they would remember how this family had all but adopted them. Amadeo’s abuelita took a special shine to ‘Bob,’ much to Clark’s amusement. She was convinced Lar was family. “He looks just like my Uncle Rafé,” she said several times. “Such a heart-breaker, that man!”

Amid a flurry of good-bye kisses Amadeo's mother made them promise they would return anytime that they wished, no invitation needed

They were on their way out of the town when they felt the first pre-shocks. Within minutes an earthquake sent them sprawling. The quake was over quickly but parts of the city were in ruins.

Horrified they returned to the Juarez home. The house was damaged but everyone was otherwise okay. Everywhere they had gone in the past year Clark and Bob found themselves playing guardian angel. Today they put the experience to good use.

The two young men begin to help immediately, moving quickly through the small town. Many were stunned at the sight of the young men lifting heavy debris, moving cars and breaking down doors. But most were too grateful or too concerned for loved ones to give it much thought. 

They worked without sleep and spent two days helping with the clean up. They left only when it was clear there was not much left to do, even then Bob all but pulled Clark away.

Bob was terribly concerned as Clark had been uncharacteristically silent during the whole enterprise but let him be. They walked for days in silence and it wasn't until they were camped in the mountains near Teziutlan that Clark broke down. He cried for almost an hour while Bob held him.

"We could have saved more people," Clark said.

"Maybe."

"If we had just acted faster..."

"Clark, you can't do this," Bob said.

"Bob, people died because we didn't move fast enough.”

"People are alive today because we were,” Bob said. “You have to remember that, a lot of people would have died if he hadn't been there."

"We should have done more," Clark turned away.

"Kal-El!" Bob said, grabbing Clark Kent's face and turning it back around. "You are not GOD. You want to be super-cop, guardian angel or whatever else that's fine. I agree. Go for it. But no matter what you do, there will always be death, there will always be pain. And there should be."

"Why should there be pain and death?"

"Because that's life. Clark, you lived on a farm you know how things work. You've seen things born and you know that milk and meat aren't grown in grocery stores. You know things die and you know what happens when they do."

"They rot away and go back to the land.” Clark sighed. “It feeds the plants, that feed the animals."

"Exactly. It's a cycle, one we shouldn't interrupt. It's one thing to save a drowning person, but you can't save everyone from dying. Do you remember that neighbor you had? The old lady with the dog?"

"The widder Jenkins," Clark chuckled through tears. "She always carried around that darn poodle. Never let its feet touch the ground, even fed it by hand."

"What was the dog like, Kal?" Bob asked.

"Mean-spirited and spoiled, it was kinda sickly too."

"Just like people, the world will be if you do everything for them," Bob said.

"So, what do I do? Do I play God and choose who gets saved and who doesn't?"

Bob sat back and brought his knees to his chest, “Well, there may be times when you have to choose. But mostly you just do the best you can.”

“Right now it doesn’t seem enough,” Clark said. "I just want to help, I don't like seeing people suffer."

“I know, Kal,” Bob said.

“You do?” Clark looked at his lover.

“You are my hero Clark Kent,” Bob said.

Clark held Bob's hand tightly and the two men sat in silence for a long time gazing up at the blanket of shimmering stars above,. 

Looking at Clark, Lar wondered if Imra’s blocks hadn’t worked after all. This might not be as hard as he thought.

"Life is precious because it can end at any moment,” Lar said. “If we take that away we take any meaning that life has."

"How'd you get so smart, Mon-El?" Clark reached up and ran his fingers through Bob's black hair. 

"Listening to you and your parents, Kal. This is all stuff I learned from you."

"I love you." Clark sat up and kissed him. Bob returned the kiss greedily.

He woke up the next morning in Clark’s arms and knew it would not be easy leaving. I was kidding myself, he thought, but it has to be done. Clark has to move on, become Superman.

As if on cue a note materialized in Lar’s hand. It read, ‘Are we done having our fun, yet?’ in Brainiac 5’s tight script. Lar Gand shuddered.


	12. Trom

_Spaceport_

Danielle Foccart formerly the Legionnaire Compute stepped off the shuttle and sighed. Not for the first time she wished her friend Gates was still around. They had taken off for parts unknown when the Legion disbanded. Danielle didn’t blame hir, everyone had been torn apart at the time.

The trip was nice enough. There was no direct route to Trom yet, her journey had necessitated a series of ship to ship transfers, but she had got there fairly quickly. There was an odd layover over Bismoll but it was a pleasant enough evening.

Dacey Ranzz was waiting for her just outside customs.

“Dacey? My god, how you’ve grown.” Danielle said, enveloping the younger woman in a big hug.

“Thank you? I think,” Dacey replied and began to lead her toward the exit.

“It was definitely a compliment you look amazing. Where’s Dorritt?” Danielle asked and immediately regretted it. A dark cloud passed over Dacey’s features.

Danielle stopped walking and sat down on the nearest couch. She patted the space next to her. Dacey sighed loudly but finally sat beside her.

“Dacey? What happened?” She asked.

“Dorritt ran off several years ago,” Dacey said softly.

“She ran off? Where?”

“She’s on Earth. Wee do have some contact with her. It’s not like when Graym was abducted,” Dacey explained.

“Why?” Danielle frowned.

“No idea. We had grown apart. I knew something was up, but not really sure what. She dyed her hair, and changed her entire affect. Suddenly nothing on Winath was good enough for her anymore. One day she just left. We’re of legal age so there was nothing our parents could do about it.”

“I am so sorry,” Danielle put a hand on Dacey’s shoulder. “How come your parents didn’t contact me?”

“I think,” Dacey turned away, embarrassed, “They were worried that everyone had been involved in our drama too much, for too long.”

“Oh, Dacey, no.” Danielle said. “We’re Legionnaires, we’re family.” She pulled the younger woman into another embrace. This time Dacey gave into it.

The trip to the house in the livery cab was quick and comfortable. Danielle gaped openly at the settlement on Trom.

“I still cannot believe Jan allowed this,” Danielle said. “He - they have come so far.” She referred to Jan Arrah and his SW6 counterpart.

“My parents were shocked as well, but Jan said that the planet had spent a decade in mourning and was ready to be a home again,” Dacey said.

“That is amazing.” Danielle laughed. “How is Moira? Are you two getting along.”

“So far,” Dacey sighed. “She certainly is a handful.”

“Her father’s daughter.”

“Which one?” Dacey asked.

“Both, If I remember correctly,” Danielle smiled, then pointed quickly out a window. “Ooh what is that? That tower.”

“That is going to be the new hospital,” Dacey explained. “Though I’m not sure of the significance of the symbol on the building.”

“Is that a Trom sigil?” Danielle asked her Com.

“It is the Tromian glyph indicating medical attention,” the disembodied voice of the Com said.

“Tromian or Trommite?” Dacey asked.

“Both are correct, though Trommite is usually used to refer to people, Tromian to objects.” Danielle explained. “Or so I think.”

“We here!” Dacey announced and jumped from the car as it pulled to a stop in front of the headquarters.

“Nice digs,” Danielle said.

“It was supposed to be a hotel, originally,” Dacey said.

“Jan! Sean!” Danielle shouted and launched herself at the two men as they exited the building to meet her. 

They spent several long minutes hugging and laughing. Then Lyle Norg made his entrance and they started all over again.

“We should take this inside,” Jan said.

“Oh hush,” Danielle chided him.

“Jan is just worried we’ll show up on UP pop media, he’s trying to avoid publicity as long a he can,” Sean said. “Where are your things?”

“Here,” Danielle indicated her backpack.

“Portable tesseract?” Lyle asked.

“Portable tesseract!” Danielle grinned. “How dare you send Dacey to get me and not come yourselves!” She poked Jan in the stomach.

“She insisted,” Jan said.

“Really?” Danielle looked around, but Dacey had already darted away. “Well, that is a high honor. God, she looks just like her mother.”

“With her father’s hair color - I always liked his hair color,” Lyle said.

“I thought you preferred dark-haired men,” Danielle playfully tugged on his arm.

“Please, Lyle will song anything that wiggles his way,” Sean teased.

“Come on let’s get Danielle settled,” Jan said leading them into the clubhouse.

“That was only mostly true, Sean - you hateful worm,” Lyle sniffed.

“Where’s Moira?” Danielle looked around.

“In class - well, watching historical Holos with Jim,” Sean indicated the family room. “There they are.”

Danielle peered into the large open room and waved at Moira. The young girl jumped up and waved excitedly. She tugged on the shirt of the tall, young man next to her. He likewise stood up and waved.

“Valor,” Danielle stammered, then caught herself. “Nass, for a moment he looked just like M’Onel.”

“Yeah,” Lyle said.

****

_Next Morning_

The OmniCom in Jan's office beeped loudly.

"Yes?" Jan said irritably. He had been going over the finances all morning. Brande Industries was backing them but there were always reports to file.

"Jan, it's Lyle, can you come down to the Med-lab and bring Sean?"

"Yes, we will be right there," Jan tossed his pen on the desk in frustration. Running his hands down over his face, he thought the distraction might be good after all.

He walked out of his office and down the hall. Jan opened the double glass doors into the main living room that doubled - for the moment - as their classroom. Jim Miklaszewski, Dacey Ranzz and his daughter Moira Arrah all turned around at the intrusion. In the holofield at the front of the room was an image of M’Onel flying at a Dominion battlecruiser.

"Sorry to interrupt. Sean, can you come with me?"

"Continue watching the documentary till I get back," Sean told the group, then outside the room, "What's up?"

"Don't know, Lyle needs us in the lab," Jan said as he walked toward the lift.

"Does this have anything to do with Dacey?” Sean asked. ”He called her up there earlier."

Jan shrugged and the lift started. They had decided to put the main club house area on the top floor. It used to be a revolving restaurant and offered a great view of the city. They had subdivided it into a meeting room, classroom, general living area and dining room. Jan wanted the new Legion to have, at least at the outset, a familial feel to it. Individual bedrooms were located in the tower below the clubhouse.

The lift deposited them on the floor Lyle had commandeered as his Lab and sickbay. He was sitting at his desk looking at a readout. Jan noted that it was a genetic scan. Lyle gestured for both men to sit down. 

Danielle Foccart arrived moments later and sat in the remaining chair.

“Settling in okay?” Jan asked.

“My quarters are wonderful,” Danielle said. “Just waiting on the arrival of my tech.”

“Sorry, Trom is still a frontier planet in a lot of ways,” Sean said. “Shipments get delayed a lot!”

Danielle laughed, and they all turned to Lyle.

"First the good news,” Lyle said. “All three of our new Legionnaires are healthy as they could possibly be."

“Good." Jan smiled with trepidation. He could see the ‘but’ coming.

"You’ve noticed how much Jim looks like our Lar Gand?" Lyle asked.

There it is, Jan thought.

"Of course, but he is from the same family and the Gand’s are famous for turning out good-looking, dark-haired men," Sean remarked.

"Really?" Jan looked at his lover in surprise.

"So I've heard," Sean added quickly smiling. 

Danielle rolled her eyes. Lyle sighed, strumming his fingers on the desk.

"It turns out the resemblance is closer than we thought. Jim is more than Lar’s namesake, Jim is Lar Gand’s son," Lyle said. They all looked at each other for a long moment.

"That's not possible,” Danielle said finally.

“Lar had no children," Jan protested. “He would have told me.”

“And where did you get this information?" Danielle asked.

Lyle stood up and began to pace back and forth. Jan had the immediate impression that he was back in school.

“I compared his DNA tests, the samples he gave this morning to Lar's, to see just how closely related they might be."

“But how can he be Lar's son? Shady and Lar weren't able to have children." Sean began to rub the bridge of his nose. “I have such a headache coming on.”

"Do you know anything about Daxamite culture?" Lyle asked and then frowned. "I'm sorry that came out stronger than I meant it. Daxamites, as you know are a very insular people they are also very long lived.

Jan shrugged. Many races had elongated life spans, especially now with medical advances available through the U.P. to all. Human life expectancy was now somewhere around two hundred, depending on your planet of origin. This was due in no small part to biomedical science from Daxam. 

"Despite the fact that they live so long their population has stayed at around a billion. A billion people on a world almost twice the size of Earth. Long ago they instituted population control and cultivation. People do not just have children. They apply to the genetics board, and if they meet the state's criteria, its needs, then they are allowed to, well, to breed. This is even assuming a couple falls in love. Usually it never gets even that far. The state knows far in advance what it needs and matches up appropriate 'parents.’ They say, ‘Okay you two would produce needed offspring. You two will have children.’”

"That was how our Lar's parents met. The state needed them to produce children, and they did. The state decides this based on cellular records taken at birth. Every now and then the state decides they need to introduce new individuals, stronger bodies, better intelligence, whatever, into the populace. So they produce the offspring in a gestation matrix. In these cases the baby is usually given over to the care of the clan the genes came from and they provide for it."

Lyle stopped for a minute and let it all sink in. They took turns shifting in their chairs uncomfortably. Jan started to say something and raised a finger but thought better of it.

"This is an incredibly organized, culturally rooted breeding program," Lyle continued.

"How sweet," Danielle said sarcastically. "It's kind of horrible, but this explains the White Triangle."

"Yes, they are literally worried about the survival, the purity of their race,” Lyle said. “Mind you, I am not saying they're not nuts. They are, but when you know the whole picture…”

"So when Lar left Daxam back in the twentieth century,” Jan started.

"He threw millennia of population cultivation out of whack," Lyle nodded. "Now because they know how long they live, they just waited for him. Gand genes are a valuable commodity. But Lar disappeared, they never learned what happened to him. Eventually, they gave up and declared him dead."

“Even after he was freed from the Phantom Zone, he rarely returned home,” Jan said. “We hid him, called him ‘M’Onel.’”

"I am really not liking where this is going." Sean's brow furrowed.

"Now Lar did not just deny them of his valuable DNA, they also lost a valued member of their society, their clan. Everyone has a role that plays a part in the life of the clan, the city and the planet,” Lyle said.

"Our Lar Gand left Daxam at the age when a young person would normally chooses their Path. Scholarship is highly valued on Daxam. A young person chooses a Path and embarks on period of study. After that they become an apprentice but it is decades before you become a master. So you see his leaving was a major event to them not just some teenage stunt. They lost a valuable cog in the wheel, a future craftsman and master."

"What does this have to do with Jim being Lar's son?" Danielle asked.

“We’re the ‘elders’ here, I want us all to have an idea of the pressure that must have been on Jim, how hard it must have been for him, to turn away from all that and how much he's given up."

"But why ostracize him, them, just for leaving?" Danielle continued.

"A Path is a sacred thing. Young people are raised from birth for this, to choose a Path. You just do not throw that away. It is unthinkable. The people of Daxam and the Clan react the only way they can."

"Like you never existed," Jan said.

"Exactly." Lyle agreed. "They carefully rework their plans for the clan, genetically and culturally. They don't have adventurers on Daxam. If they did we probably be living under their rule."

"But that's exactly why Lar left,” Jan said. 

“Laurel, too.” Danielle added.

“Daxam bred this into them," Sean said.

“This is very few people in countless millennia, it is hardly evidence that their culture is a failure. It actually points, to what they would consider more a personal failure on those individuals part,” Lyle continued.

“Ugh.” Sean groaned.

"So they used Lar's cell sample combined it with another and made a new Lar Gand in a gestation matrix," Jan said, a similar process had been used to create his own daughter Moira. 

"But why do it at all if they consider Lar Gand a failure?" Danielle shifted uncomfortably in her chair.

“That's just it, they consider him, personally, a failure,” Lyle said. “Obviously his DNA is very valuable."

"You bet it is." Sean nodded. "And not just for their breeding program. Think about it. Upstairs sits the only begotten son of the being that sixty percent of the U.P. considers a near-deity. At the very least Daxam just lost a powerful public relations tool."

"Oh Nass," Jan groaned, putting his head in his hands. "This is not happening." 

"Don't worry too much about the Daxamites, not yet," Lyle finally added with a mischievous glint in his eye.

"Grife, why not? It seems perfectly reasonable to expect a cadre of supermen to burst through the roof any second," Sean said wearily.

"No. While my information comes from a variety of sources, Science Police reports, rumors, and smuggler’s tales, all the information about Jim I got from his adoptive father."

"How did you manage that? I know how close lipped those people can be," Sean asked incredulously. In the Science Police he had once been stationed on Daxam. The posting had been brief and frustrating.

"Dacey was very helpful in that area," Lyle said.

"Titanians can’t read minds over OmniCom." Danielle arched an eyebrow.

"No, but I put a 'Saturn Girl' shirt on her, had her sit behind me and he squealed like a stuffed shaol." Lyle beamed with pride.

"You sneak!" Danielle grinned.

"Most people haven't had our experience with Titanians. They can be very intimidating." Lyle grinned, leaning back in his chair, he put his hands behind his head and his feet up on his desk.

"Now before you go getting too self-satisfied," Sean clucked, "what do we do now?"

"Jim's father gave no indication that they were going to do anything. Remember these people live and plan for the centuries," Lyle said.

"With everything you said, I would expect them to take it very seriously," Jan said.

"They do but so few Daxam youth run off it is hard for them to process it. Why would anyone leave heaven?" Lyle almost choked. "They're at a loss, remember it has only happened once, twice before. At best they’ve mixed feelings about it. On one hand, they want Jim back, and he's of no use to the Clan as a prisoner. On the other hand he made his choice, his chose his Path, he turned his back on them. They honor his choice but act in the best interests of the clan."

"They ostracize him and act as if he's dead," Danielle frowned.

"Yes. Mind you there are things going on we’re not privy to. Even Jim's father seemed unsure of the why of some things. If Jim were to return, even after a few years, select a proper path, he could probably, eventually return fully to Daxam society. Maybe."

“That sounds very conditional,” Danielle said.

“It is,” Lyle agreed.

"So for now we do nothing?" Jan was relieved.

"I think we need to watch out for him. This separation is a major thing," Lyle said

"Of course," Sean agreed. "We would have anyway. But now… I mean, GRIFE! He is Lar's son! He really is family. But beyond that, what next?"

"We need to get in contact with Lar and Laurel," Lyle said.

"Yes, Lar should know he has a son, immediately." Jan brightened at the thought. 

"And he needs to know that they helped themselves to his DNA,” Danielle said. “But why Laurel, aside from the fact that she has another Lar Gand to pray for?"

"I didn't tell you?” Lyle asked. “Hers were the cells they combined with Lar's. Laurel Gand is Jim's mother.”

****

Sean sat in his office trying to process all the information they had just received, to piece it together.

After the meeting in Lyle’s office he had checked on their new Legionnaires then retreated here. He hoped Mysa would have some helpful feedback. Sean was at a total loss as how to proceed, although he was adamant that Jim and the others were told the truth. Conspiracies had almost torn the Legion apart in the past. Neither Sean nor Jan was willing to take that chance again.

Sean tapped his Omnicom and ran down the list of anticipated arrivals:

Haym Magz of Braal

Tymm Ttydra of Bgztl

Mihok Kallor of Xanthu/Binder 7

Edie Ognats of Earth

Tula J’onzz of Durla

Let’s see, a magneto, a phantom, a witch/graviton, a speedster and a metamorph. Yes, I think that will be a very nice start for our new Legion, he thought. Hmmm, listen to me. Jan and I need to decide if we are calling it the Legion. Tho, I think that ship may have sailed

Waving open the Omnicom UI, he placed his first call. Mihok would arrive soon, but he had to check on Haym, and then Tula’s arrangements. Edie was still in the undecided category and Tymm would not be arriving until next Friday. The Allon kid was the dark horse.

The Omnicom buzzed that his call went through.

"Sean Erin for Haym Magz," he said.

"Sean, Lev, Haym’s father, good to hear from you again," the voice said. 

"Lev, how are you? Is Haym there?" Sean asked.

"No, Haym left on a transport this morning. She should be arriving there day after tomorrow."

"Excellent, glad to hear it," Sean sighed. Something was going right.

"I just want to say how proud we all are that you asked a Magz to join your new Legion. We all know how close the Legion is to the Krinn family," Lev Magz said..

"True, but Dyrk was a fine young man, we could hardly have forgotten him or you."

"Thank you, thank you so much,” Lev continued. “Haym will do justice to your new Legion."

I guess that ship HAS sailed, Sean thought. "I have no doubt of that. We’ll talk again, soon."

"Goodbye, Sean."

Sean Erin grimaced as he closed the channel. He hated lying to the man; he sounded so pleased, so proud. The truth was they had tried to get someone from the Krinn family first, but the current crop was more interested in Magno Ball competition than in following their father’s warrior life. Not that Sean blamed them. 

It was only after perusing the list of Magno Ball champs that Jan remembered the Magz family. They had their own star; a young artist named Haym. It made Sean happy that the person they had recruited was a woman. Braal society had a tendency toward the macho.

Sean went to the next name on the list.

**Author's Note:**

> Post 'five year gap,' but borrowing from every continuity. Its all true, more of less, depends on the storyteller.
> 
> Originally posted to the LSH fic Yahoo group, reworked and collected here.
> 
> Owes a huge debt to the late Dannell Lites,


End file.
